


We're Built to Last

by oiyukis



Series: Nekoma Hinata [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, KenHina Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2435696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oiyukis/pseuds/oiyukis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of stories wherein Hinata is Nekoma's #10. [Part of KenHina Week]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're the Wind and I'm the Wave

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a bigger AU that I haven’t finished yet. The gist is that Hinata move to Tokyo when he was 10, across the street from Kenma. He got into Nekoma with everyone’s help tutoring him, and now he’s on their volleyball team.
> 
> Prompt: Formal/Suit - I slightly tweaked for "Uniform"
> 
> [[Tumblr Link](http://oiyukis.tumblr.com/post/99683352663/youre-the-wind-and-im-the-wave)]

Kenma wakes to a series of rapid buzzing from his nightstand. His phone sits on top of an open textbook, something he decided wasn’t as important as sleep, and his cheek is pressed against the unforgiving buttons of his PSP.

Kenma sighs, reaching for his phone and sliding his thumb across the screen. Each message is from Shouyou, and each says the same thing (with an increasing amount of exclamation points per message).

_Come Over!_

Kenma frowns at the phone, considering. He’s exhausted from a long day of class and practice, barely escaping the after-practice duties when Kuroo had called a private meeting for the first years of the club.

How, after all that, could Shouyou still have so much energy?

Kenma thumbs a quick reply.

_No._

Kenma slides his PSP from under his cheek, reaching over the edge of the bed to set it on the ground. In seconds, his phone buzzes with another response.

_Okay._

_Then I will!_

Kenma groans to himself, but he isn’t surprised. He sits up, kicking his sheets away from him and climbing to his feet. His parents aren’t home, so nobody is around to let Shouyou in except himself.

The knocking starts before Kenma even makes it down the stairs. He opens the door, stepping out of the way so Shouyou can barrel through. Shouyou quickly kicks off his shoes, looking around. “Are you the only one home?”

Kenma hums, closing the door and leaning back against it.

“Great!” Shouyou hurries to the living room, turning to face Kenma with his hands on his hips and his feet spread wide. “Guess what?”

Kenma moves to lean against the doorway to the living room, crossing his arms around himself. “What?”

“We got our official uniforms!”

Kenma blinks, resting his head against the frame. “Oh?”

“Oh?” Shouyou parrots. “Oh? It’s exciting! It’s the first time I’ve gotten to wear Nekoma colors! We’ll match! And look!”

Shouyou proceeds to unzip his jacket, revealing a black-and-red shirt underneath. Embolden across the front is the number 10 in white block letters, and the black collar of the shirt dips lower on Shouyou than Kenma is used to seeing.

“It looks too big,” is the first thing Kenma says. After a pause, he adds, “and aren’t you supposed to keep that in the club room?”

“Kenma,” Shouyou drags out his name childishly. “That’s it?”

“Well. Aren’t you?”

“ _Technically_ ,” Shouyou squints at the ceiling, stuffing his hands in the loose jacket pockets. “Kuroo was too busy lecturing Lev for trying to take it home to notice that I. . .was also trying to take it home.”

“It looks too big.”

“By two sizes,” Shouyou says quickly, as if glossing over the fact. “But it’s so cool! It’s an official shirt! That means I’m going to be in a line-up, right? So I’ll get to hit your tosses in a real match!”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s so cool!” Shouyou repeats. “ _And_! Ten is the same number the Little Giant wore!”

Kenma almost sighs, but he’s too used to Shouyou’s admiration of the former player—the former player for a different school—to bother.

“Plus,” Shouyou says, bringing his hands before him so he can twiddle his fingers, a sure sign that he’s not sure how well his next words are going to be taken. “You’re 5. Our numbers go together. You know, cause five is half of ten.”

Shouyou stiffens, as if realizing something terrible. “I don’t mean that _you’re_ half of me! I mean, you’re a much better player, and--!”

“Shouyou,” Kenma pushes off the wall, sitting on the arm of the couch. “It’s fine. I know.”

Shouyou sighs. “Sorry. I know I’m being too excited about a _shirt_ , but. . .the last time we got to wear matching uniforms was when Kuroo’s mom bought all of us colored jerseys when we still played in his backyard. I just think it’s cool.”

Kenma offers a small smile, “it’s nice.”

“Yeah!” Shouyou is right back to being energetic. “I’m going to wear it to practice tomorrow!”

“You’ll be the only one, though.”

“Then I’ll stand out more, and you can toss to me more!”

“Ah. I’m not on your team, though.”

Shouyou whines, trudging forward to sit on the couch. “I forgot.”

“Kai will still toss to you. He’s on your team.”

“He is?”

“Mm.”

“Hey,” Shouyou sits straight, tilting his head. “Are you supposed to be telling me this stuff?”

“I don’t care.” Kenma shrugs. “It won’t really change anything. There’s no advantage, since no one on the team can be considered ‘an unstoppable pair.’ We all just work together.”

“So the oxygen can get to the brain, right?”

Kenma frowns, causing Shouyou to snicker. “Sorry,” Shouyou says. “Kuroo said you didn’t like that. But. . .I don’t agree. I think _we’re_ an unstoppable pair.”

“Why?” Kenma slides off the arm to rest on the cushions, pulling his feet up and facing Shouyou as much as the couch allows. “I can’t always get the ball in the right spot to you. And you don’t always hit that quick you want.”

“No,” Shouyou agrees, puffing out his cheeks, “but we’ll get there! We’ll get better!”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I’ll take maybe!” Shouyou declares. “I sucked at receives before I met you guys, and now I’m good at them.”

Kenma makes a face.

“ _Okay_ , but I’m _better_ at them. We just have to practice!” Shouyou nods to himself, determination in his eyes.

Practice. Meaning work. Meaning spending a lot of time with Shouyou. Meaning one-on-one. Meaning—

“Kenma?” Shouyou leans in close, a small frown marring his lips. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Kenma hastily retreats, pressing himself against the arm of the couch.

“Are you sure? You look pale.”

“I’m fine.”

“But—”

“Shouyou,” Kenma interrupts firmly. “I’m fine.”

“If you say so.” But Shouyou doesn’t look entirely convinced.

Kenma tries to school his expression, taking a soft, deep breath. The last thing he needs is for Shouyou to learn about the little (massive, some—Kuroo—would say) crush Kenma has on him. Has had on him, practically from the day they’d met, all those years ago.

“Do you want to toss to me some?”

“Not really.”

“Kenma,” Shouyou drops his head on Kenma’s arm, nudging him with his face. “ _Please_.”

“We have morning practice tomorrow. I’ll do it then.”

“But that’s so far away.”

“No it’s not. Go home.”

“I don’t want to go home, I just got here.”

“Shouyou—”

“Then, let’s play a game or something. I don’t want to go home.”

“Why not?” Kenma uses a finger to push Shouyou’s head away, allowing a glimpse of his eyes.

“I’m avoiding homework,” Shouyou says bluntly.

“You have to keep your grades up to stay on the team.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got it. I just don’t want to do it tonight.” Shouyou sighs, flopping back on the cushions and putting his feet on Kenma’s lap. “I want to spend time with you.”

“You’ll see me tomorrow,” Kenma awkwardly says.

“It’s not the same,” Shouyou sighs, folding his arms underneath his head. He peers over himself at Kenma, smiling toothily. “Right?”

“I guess,” Kenma says, but he knows. There’s something. . .special about spending time with Shouyou when it’s just the two of them, crush aside.

“So,” Shouyou removes his ankles from Kenma’s lap in order to sit up. “What should we do?”

“. . .I might as well toss to you for a bit,” Kenma looks away. “Since you’ve got the uniform on.”

Shouyou cheers, throwing his arms around Kenma and pulling him in for a brief hug. “You’re the best, Kenma!”

Kenma grunts, and though the urge to bury his face into Shouyou’s neck is there, he resists.

 

(It’s only later, when Kenma sees Shouyou tying the uniform shirt back into a knot, so it pulls snugly against his stomach, does Kenma realize he should have spent more time getting used to seeing Shouyou in uniform.

He’s almost too distracted during practice to notice Kuroo and Yamamoto snickering at his behavior.

Almost.)

 

 

 

 

 


	2. On A Boat I Built For One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is really short. I've had a hell of a day so...i'm going to sleep 5ever now
> 
> [[Tumblr Link](http://oiyukis.tumblr.com/post/99696913578/on-a-boat-i-built-for-one)]

“Why is your house always so cold?” Shouyou asks, kicking his feet on Kenma’s mattress. He’s lying on his back on the floor, legs propped up by the bed and getting dangerously close to Kenma’s face.

Kenma rubs his neck, attempting to focus on the textbook in front of him. The sooner he finishes reading, the sooner he can get back to his game. Unsurprisingly, Kenma is the only one between them actually reading—Shouyou always asks to come over and study, but Kenma is the only one who attempts to get anything done. They aren’t even in the same class.

“Can I turn the heat on?”

“It’s not cold.”

“It’s freezing!” Shouyou says, dropping his heels to the bed.

“Put on a jacket.”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“Go home and get one. You live across the street.”

“Can’t I just wear something of yours?”

Kenma pauses, glancing down. “I guess?”

Shouyou is on his feet in an instant, poking through Kenma’s closet as if he hadn’t gotten permission. Kenma turns back to his book, but he can’t focus on any of the words. Shouyou is going to wear something of his. He’s going to put on Kenma’s clothes and when he leaves they’ll still smell like him and—

“Is this okay?”

He’s holding up a dark purple sweater, something Kenma can’t recall even owning. It doesn’t look his size, which will make it even bigger on Shouyou.

Kenma nods, staring as Shouyou pulls the sweater over his head, picking at the sleeves and hem until he deems himself comfortable. Instead of returning to his spot on the floor, Shouyou catapults himself onto the bed, snug against Kenma’s side. He closes Kenma’s textbook, tossing it off the bed.

“Shouyou,” Kenma frowns.

“You can’t not be cold,” Shouyou reasons, shifting so he can wrap his arms around Kenma. He’s always been overly tactile, and Kenma is usually alright with it but. . .

Things are different now.

“Shouyou—”

“Are you mad at me?”

“What?” Kenma pauses, surprised by the question.

“Are you?” Shouyou asks.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because,” Shouyou lays his head on the mattress, staring up at Kenma with wide, clear eyes. “Lately, whenever I get too close to you, you get all tense. I didn’t really notice at first, but then Lev asked me what I did to make you mad, and. . .”

“Shouyou—”

“So what did I do? I’ll apologize. I’ll try not to do it again. I know I can get too energetic and sometimes I say things without thinking, but I don’t _remember_ saying anything bad, so just tell me and I can fix it. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me. I want to fix it. Please?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Kenma says. As an afterthought, he lets the slight tension drain from his shoulders. “I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?” Shouyou doesn’t sound convinced.

“I’m not,” Kenma repeats. “Really. I don’t tense when you get close.”

“You do.”

“I don’t mean to.” Kenma mutters, resting his chin on his arms.

“I. I know that I can be—”

“I’m not mad at you,” Kenma repeats quickly. “You’re not _anything_. Bad. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then. . .is something wrong with you?” Shouyou tilts his head. “Have you been sick? Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m sick,” Kenma ducks his head, blackening his vision.

“You are?”

“It’s terrible.”

“Are you sick _now_?”

“Especially now.”

“Kenma!” Shouyou cries. “Why didn’t you _say_ something? I could make soup or get you a blanket or. . .or _something_!”

“It’s not that kind of sick.”

“What kind of sick _is_ it?”

“. . .the kind that’s not contagious.”

“That doesn’t help!”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But Kenma--!”

“I’m not mad. I’m just. . .” Kenma sighs, “sick.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
>  yeah Kenma. _love_ sick. Hah.


	3. From the Wreckage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, one in Hinata's POV. Since Kenma is really the only person who uses his first name, anything in Hinata's POV will call him Hinata instead of Shouyou~ As compared to the other two stories, this goes back in time a little. 
> 
> Written quickly and unbetaed because so much homework needs to be done tonight
> 
> Prompt: Weather and Animals
> 
> [[Tumblr](http://oiyukis.tumblr.com/post/99851237743/from-the-wreckage)]

Hinata is kicking around in the puddles outside the gates of Nekoma High as students trail out of the school in a slow-moving herd. It’s been raining for days now—because it’s _tsuyu_ , according to Hinata’s father, but thinking of it like that just makes him hungry—and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to ever stop.

Hinata leans back against the gates of the school, keeping his umbrella steady. He feels ridiculous in his bright yellow rain boots and matching coat, like a kindergartener on his first day of school. Ducking his head, Hinata spins his umbrella in slow circles, already growing restless. It’s a challenge to keep him still for five minutes, let alone the twenty he’s been waiting at the gates for Kenma.

The middle school gets out forty minutes before the high school does, giving Hinata more than enough time to run the three blocks distance between them and lie in wait for Kenma on days he doesn’t have practice, or peek into the windows of the gym when he does. The third years on the team all rub Hinata the wrong way: they boss around the first years with superior tones, rarely offer their genuine advice, and don’t seem to actually care about the other people on the team. Kenma dislikes them. Kuroo has stronger words for them, and he’s not even a first year.

Hinata is glad they’ll be gone by the time he gets to officially join the team.

He hangs his head back, tilting his umbrella enough to get a glimpse of the dreary sky. Kenma should have been here by now. If there’s one thing Kenma is quick at, it’s _leaving_ school grounds.

“Oi! Chibinata!”

Hinata starts, glancing to the school gates. Yaku and Yamamoto are walking towards him, each keeping a tight grip on their umbrellas.

“You’re waiting for Kenma, right?” Yaku asks, eyeing Yamamoto for the nickname.

“Yes,” Hinata also eyes Yamamoto, pursing his lips in a succinct pout.

Yaku looks past the school gates, gesturing to the ground with his elbow without removing his hand from his coat pocket. “He’s behind the clubhouse. He probably won’t be out for a while, so you might as well go in.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Usually, they all head home in one pack. They live close enough, after all.

“Nekomata-sensei is meeting with Kuroo and Kai.” Yaku says. “There was an issue during morning practice.”

“What kind of issue?” Hinata leans in.

“Ask Kenma,” Yaku says dismissively. “I’d like to be home before the rain picks up.”

He has a point. Hinata nods, stepping around them so he can find Kenma and hopefully do the same. Yamamoto yells something after him, but he doesn’t catch it.

Darting around students still leaving the school, Hinata weaves his way to the far side of the grounds where the clubhouses are set up in an apartment-like complex. A few first years Hinata faintly recognizes from their middle school days are loitering on the top floor, scowling at the rain.

He waves when they call out to him, but he doesn’t stray from his path. Turning the corner of the complex, Hinata skirts around a huge puddle and finds himself behind the clubhouses.

Almost immediately, he spots Kenma. Sitting back against the wall of the school, Kenma is holding his umbrella high above his head, covering himself and something next to him that’s too small to make out.

Hinata hurries forward, only stopping when Kenma looks up with a sharp frown.

“Um--.”

Kenma’s expression softens a little, but the frown stays. “Walk slower.”

“A—ah.”

Next to Kenma is a small cardboard box, and inside it is an even smaller kitten. Its eyes are closed, and it’s curled up in what looks like several pillowcases.

“I didn’t want you to wake her,” Kenma explains quietly.

A stray cat. Kenma has been sitting here, arm held in the air, to keep a stray cat dry. Hinata isn’t sure if it’s possible to like Kenma more than he already does, but his chest swells with warmth at the sight.

Hinata squats down next to Kenma, moving his umbrella to better cover them both. “Why don’t you take her home?”

“She hasn’t let me get close to her before. It must be the rain.”

“I could try.” Hinata peers into the box.

“She’ll smell a dog on you,” Kenma accuses.

“It’s not my dog. We’re just watching him for the week.”

“Still.” Kenma shifts closer as a cold gust of wind blows through the grounds. “If you carry my umbrella, I’ll carry her.”

“Sure. Close it first?”

Kenma does, and hands it to Hinata.

“We can just share mine,” Hinata grins, standing up. He keeps his umbrella over Kenma and the little kitten, offering the former his arm. Kenma wraps his cold fingers around Hinata’s arm, letting himself be pulled to his feet.

“If your parents don’t let you keep her, I’ll hide her in Natsu’s room,” Hinata grins.

“Shouyou,” Kenma frowns.

“Okay, okay. Kuroo would probably take her.”

Kenma hums, bending over to gently lift the box from the ground. The bottom of it is damp, so Kenma cradles it in his arms to keep it secure.

“What’s her name?”

“She doesn’t have one.”

“Kenma! All pets have names!”

In response, Kenma shrugs.

“Well, fine. Name her after your favorite character.”

“. . .Neku.”

“Kenma, that’s too close to _Neko_. You don’t want to name a cat _Cat_ , do you?”

“Why not?”

“A different character!” Hinata declares.

“Yuna, then.”

Hinata has no idea what game Kenma is getting these names from, but it’s better than his first choice. “Yuna-ko.”

“No,” Kenma stands closer to Hinata, reaching up to pull the umbrella his way.

“Yuna, then.” Hinata obliges easily, not paying any attention to the rain that starts pattering across his exposed shoulder.

As they’re heading towards the entrance to the school, Kenma speaks up again, quietly. “I’m thinking about dying my hair.”

“Hm?”

“I like the color Yamamoto has.”

Hinata hums, trying to picture it. He doesn’t succeed. “Do. . .you want help?”

Kenma glances at him, one of his secret smiles tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .  
> .  
>  tsuyu is the rainy season in Japan, but as it literally translates to "plum rain" and is also a type of sauce for noodles, Hinata's quip about it is a pun. Typically, tsuyu is from June to July, when Japanese students are in their first term. 
> 
> Also refs to The World Ends With You, Final Fantasy X, and "Chibinata" is sort of inspired by Yamamoto's personality but also because I've been watching a lot of Sailor Moon R lately and I just finished the episode where ChibiUsa shows up.


	4. Fall Into The Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to explore angry Kenma so this happened? Also: headcanon that Kenma wanted to learn how to treat injuries on the team because it made him feel like a healer in a video game party, so he’s the go-to player for injuries when the coaches and advisers aren’t around
> 
> [[Tumblr](http://oiyukis.tumblr.com/post/99972012043/fall-into-the-sea)]

Kenma hears the yell first. He’s moving before he knows it, weaving through the other people in the gym until the floor opens up to a view of the back wall. Shouyou is on the ground, both hands clutched around one of his ankles. His eyes are screwed shut, forehead pressed against a knee, and his foot is dangling the air.

Lev is kneeling in front of him, almost blocking him from view, rapidly waving his hands back-and-forth. Yaku is standing on Shouyou’s other side, lecturing Lev about needing to back up so Hinata can breathe.

“What happened?”

Lev whips his head back, staring at Kenma with wide, worried eyes. “I don’t know!”

“He landed wrong after a spike,” Yaku explains. “We didn’t think it was that bad, since he’s been sitting out, but when he tried to get up. . .”

“It hurts,” Shouyou hisses, cradling his ankle and bringing his knee closer to his body. He looks nearly curled in on himself in pain.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Yaku says, “but it could be a bad sprain.”

“No!” Shouyou exclaims. “I can still play!”

“Hinata,” Lev stares, “when you put weight on your foot, you looked like you were about to throw up.”

“I _was_ ,” Shouyou whines, “but I can still play.”

Kenma kneels down, shooing Lev away with clipped motions. “Can you take your shoe off?”

“No.”

“Will you let me?”

Shouyou raises his head from his knee, staring at Kenma for a long, silent moment. “Okay,” he finally decides.

Kenma nods, shifting his weight until he’s cross-legged on the gym floor. He holds Shouyou’s foot just below the juts of his ankle bone, untying the shoe so it will be easier to remove. Slowly, Kenma eases off the shoe, then the sock, until Shouyou’s swollen foot is bared to the air. It looks worse than it probably is, but the redness spans from his toes to his ankle, hot to the touch.

Kenma settles Shouyou’s foot in his lap, glancing up at Yaku. “We should wrap it.”

Yaku nods, “We’ll get the first aid kit.”

“Is it up too high for you, senpai?” Lev asks, purely curious.

Yaku growls at him for the unintentional jibe. “Come _on_.”

Kenma is glad when Yaku finally manages to convince Lev to leave them be. He doesn’t dislike the first year or anything, but he has a nagging feeling that Lev would just hang around and end up causing trouble—after all, Shouyou’s tendency to get hurt seems to go up when he’s spending time with Lev. Kenma blames their competitive nature.

Kenma is more than a little competitive himself, but at least he channels it into something that can’t physically hurt him.

“Kenma,” Shouyou drags out his name in another whine. “Don’t re—”

“I’m reporting it.”

“But then I won’t be able to play!”

“You’ll be out for a few weeks at most.” Kenma rubs light circles into the skin around Shouyou’s ankle bone.

“That’s _terrible_.”

Finally, Kenma looks up, letting a bit of his ire show. “If you play on a sprain and get hurt, you might never be able to play again.”

Behind Kenma, the gym is silent. Shouyou is staring at him with wide eyes, mouth parted in surprise.

“Um.” Lev is back, Yaku in tow, with a first aid kid in his hands.

Kenma sets Shouyou’s foot on the floor, standing up and brushing past them. “I’ll tell Naoi-sensei what happened. He’ll wrap Hinata’s ankle.”

“K—Kenma!” Shouyou yells after him. If the sharp intakes of breath around the gym had been any indicator, Shouyou is just as taken aback by the use of his surname as the rest of the team. “Wait!”

Kenma doesn’t.

 

-

 

“Kenma!”

Kenma sighs, trying to ignore the yell from outside his bedroom window. It’s much too late to be awake, but he is, if only long enough to beat the boss battle he’s been stuck on for the last hour.

“Kenma!”

Block. Block. Why can’t his character block fast enough?

“Kenma—AH!”

Kenma starts at the sudden yell, pushing his dark curtains back to peer out the window. As he’s been for the last ten minutes, Shouyou is standing between Kenma’s house and the neighbors, though now he’s rapidly trying to keep his balance on his good foot.

Kenma sighs, pushing up his window and leaning his head out. “Go home, Shouyou.”

Shouyou’s head snaps up, eyes sparking like he’s about to hit his crazy quick and win a match. “Kenma!”

“You’ll wake the whole neighborhood,” Kenma says. “Go home.”

“No!” Shouyou protests. “Not until you tell me why you’re mad at me!”

“I’m not mad _at_ you.”

“Yes you are! You’re irritable. You’ve got on your grumpy face!”

“ _Hinata_.”

“Don’t call me that!” Shouyou frowns. “I’m coming up.”

“What? No, Shouyou. You’ll just hurt yourself again.”

“I’ll climb up the drainpipe.”

“There is no drainpipe.” Kenma snaps.

“Then,” Shouyou’s brow pinches in frustration. “Just tell me!”

Kenma frowns. “Fine. You need to take better care of yourself. You care more about volleyball than whether or not you’re healthy.”

“I—”

“Don’t deny it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Shouyou mutters quietly, but not quietly enough. “I mean. You’re mad that I’m hurt?”

“Yes.”

“That I hurt myself? Because I like to play?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t get it!” Shouyou wails, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“It means I care,” Kenma snaps back, reaching his hands up to his window.

“What?” Shouyou perks up. “Kenma! Wait!”

“What?”

“You’re mad at me because you care about me?”

“Good night, Shouyou.”

“Kenma!”

“ _Goodnight_!”

Kenma closes his window tightly, pulling the curtains back in place.

In the morning, Shouyou will be waiting on his doorstep with apology cookies or cake or something sweet, and Kenma will forgive him and make him promise to be more careful, and Shouyou will walk beside him at a much slower pace with a noticeable limp.

Right now, Kenma just wants to press his pillow to his face and scream. 


	5. We Missed the Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: AU/Crossover, but since it's already an AU I just wrote whatever came to mind. 
> 
> [[Tumblr](http://oiyukis.tumblr.com/post/100054255868/we-missed-the-sunset)]

By the time Kuroo lets the meeting out—the meeting that had been utterly unnecessary, given that at least the last hour of it was spent gossiping and _not_ about the upcoming practice match with Karasuno—the sky is dark and the air is cool. For that, Kenma is thankful. Summer in Tokyo is an unusually hot affair, considering the weather the rest of the year.

He stuffs his pockets with his hands, aiming to head out before Kuroo. Normally he doesn’t mind sharing the walk home, but he’s got enough on his mind as it is. He doesn’t need—

“Kenma!”

As if summoned by his thoughts, Shouyou is sitting on a lonely bench in the courtyard of the school. _Was_. Now, he’s standing and waving his hand through the air, like Kenma might not see him otherwise.

The thought is almost enough to make Kenma laugh. There’s no way, in any universe, that he would overlook Shouyou.

“I thought you went home,” he says instead of the sentimental mush playing through his head.

“Nah.” Shouyou settles when Kenma is near, hiding his arms behind his back. He’s still half in practice attire – the same Nekoma sweats that Kenma so often wears (they’re undeniably comfy). “It feels weird walking home without you.”

Without _you_. Not _someone_. _You_.

Kenma ignores the thoughts.

“What was the meeting about?” Shouyou asks as they both head toward the school gates. “Super-secret upperclassmen shenanigans?”

“No,” Kenma stares for a moment. “Nothing, really. Nothing got done, anyway.”

“Was it supposed to be about Karasuno?”

“. . .did you stay to eavesdrop?”

“No!” Shouyou denies quickly. “I wanted to wait for you! But. . .I am interested in Karasuno. Nekomata-sensei talks a lot about them, and they’re a team like us!”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were all starting high school and I was still in middle school, all you guys talked about was how the upperclassmen didn’t let you play but they weren’t good players themselves.” Shouyou skips ahead, turning so he can continue to talk to Kenma while walking. “I don’t think that’s true about our team. I think we’re really good. And Nekomata-sensei says that Karasuno might be like that too.”

“Might.”

“He’s not usually wrong about our enemies.”

“. . . _opponents_.”

“Heh. Same thing, right?” Shouyou chuckles, turning his back to Kenma. “I’m so excited! Karasuno is like our eternal rival! We’re finally going to face off!”

“We might not win, you know.”

Shouyou pauses, hanging back until Kenma catches up to him. “What are you talking about? We’re on the same side, so of course we’ll win.”

“Assuming you’ll play.”

“Well,” Shouyou admits sheepishly, “I did eavesdrop long enough to know _that_.”

Kenma sighs, and turns his head away to hide a fond smile. “Of course you did.”

 

 

 

 


	6. We Were Racing Down a Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 days late and super short. 
> 
> Prompt was touch
> 
> [[Tumblr](http://oiyukis.tumblr.com/post/100216034878/we-were-racing-down-a-road)]

Shouyou is an incredibly tactile person. Kenma learns this at an early age, shortly after they first meet, and adapts faster than any of his friends expect. By the time they are ten and eleven respectively, Kenma barely reacts when Shouyou latches onto his side or middle.

Over the years, not much has changed.

Except, perhaps, Kenma’s feelings. He doesn’t remember ever having to worry about his heart beating too hard when a nine-year-old Shouyou would take his hand and drag him outside to join the neighborhood game.

Shouyou still latches on to Kenma when he’s tired, or pushes into his space when Kenma isn’t expecting it. He’ll touch the point of Kenma’s elbow to get his attention during practice. He’ll insist on sitting next to Kenma on the ride to away games, nearly squishing Kenma against the window when he inevitably dozes off on the return trip.

Kenma thinks Shouyou comes into contact with him more than his own family.

(Who, speaking of, are all just as in love with Shouyou as Kenma is.)

“Kenma? Are you listening?”

“No,” Kenma replies, not sparing Kuroo a glance. Across the gym, Shouyou is laughing and elbowing Inuoka in the side. Yaku is shaking his head at their antics, attempting to turn their attention back to practice.

Kuroo follows his gaze, sighing good-naturedly and shouting, “first years need to get back to work!”

They all start, and Yaku spares Kuroo a quirked eyebrow, before the underclassman are rushing back towards the fallen volleyballs.

“What were you thinking of?”

“Nothing.”

“Come _on_ ,” Kuroo goes to sling an arm around Kenma’s shoulder. For a moment, Kenma swears Shouyou is staring at them—glaring at Kuroo, at Kuroo’s arm—but in a blink he’s tossing a ball to Lev. “You can tell me. We’re pals. Best buds. Bosom buddies.”

“ _Nothing_.”

“Waxing over Chibinata again?”

“You got that from Yamamoto.”

“Yamamoto got that from _me_.”

“I’m not waxing.”

“You are.”

“I’m not--!”

“You,” Kuroo interrupts, “should tell him how you feel. Watching both of you run circles around each other is exhausting.”

Kenma opens his mouth.

“And before you say he doesn’t like _you_ like that, I’d take a good long look at what he acts like when you’re around.”

Kenma looks away, finding a particularly interesting corner to stare at. “Maybe,” he finally answers.

“How about this? If we beat Karasuno at the practice match, you’ll tell him.”

“I’m not _betting_ on this.”

“Don’t think of it as a bet. Think of it as incentive.”

“You’re misusing incentive if you think I want to tell him.”

“But you do,” Kuroo says. “You’re just looking for the best time. I think beating a team Hinata’s come to view as our eternal rivals would be a pretty good chance. For a crazy volleyball fanatic, anyway.”

“Shut up.”

“Heh.”

Kenma hates that ‘heh.’ It’s the noise Kuroo makes when he knows he’s right—when he knows he’s won.

 


	7. We're Built To Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before the last part. Another in Hinata's POV -- And finally, [the song I borrowed the title and chapter titles from](http://saccarines.tumblr.com/post/100219032573/skinny-dipping-youngins-you-and-i)  
> Prompt:Free Day (Day 7)
> 
> [[Tumblr](http://oiyukis.tumblr.com/post/100219142643/were-built-to-last)]
> 
> We’ve come to the end of KenHina week, and the end of my drabble collection. In the (hopefully near) future, the nekoma Hinata verse will be a full-length fic that will span Hinata’s initial move to Tokyo and on.

Hinata shows up in the line at 2, bringing with him a cup of steaming cocoa for them both. It’s vending machine cocoa, so he can’t swear by the taste, but the way Kenma is shivering in his Nekoma jacket makes Hinata think he’ll want it all the same.

A few people in the line behind Kenma give him dirty looks, but they’re too cold to make a fuss over his sudden appearance ahead of them. It’s a surprisingly chilly morning, the sky still dark and the streetlights in front of the game shop burning bright.

Kenma takes the cup with a thankful hum, sipping at it a few times before speaking. “Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here?”

“It’s fine,” Hinata replies easily.

He doesn’t think about the stack of unopened textbooks on his desk, or the paper posted above his calendar that reminds him he has to pass his upcoming exams to stay on the team.

“I’m surprised you were awake.” Kenma admits.

“I was just up thinking.”

Kenma shifts around against the wall, offering Hinata part of the blanket that covers his knees. Hinata sits arm-to-arm with him, pulling the blanket over his legs. “What about?”

“Oh, you know.” Hinata shrugs.

Kenma sips at the cocoa again. “I don’t.”

“Just stuff. School stuff. Other stuff.”

“How vague,” Kenma says lightly, in that way that Hinata has associated over the years with teasing.

“I have to keep my mysterious persona, right?”

“If that’s what you’ve been going for, you’ve. . .not done well..”

“What do you mean? I’m harder to read than. . .than Nekomata-sensei’s handwriting.”

Kenma snorts.

For a while, they sit in comfortable silence. Hinata feels more awake in the cool air than he had in his bedroom when he’d decided to text Kenma. He hadn’t been counting on a reply—it was a half-chance that Kenma was awake to begin with—but he’s glad he got one.

“Thanks,” Kenma says suddenly. “For coming out here.”

“It’s not that far.”

“It’s late, though. That’s why Lev didn’t want to come.”

Lev, they’d learned, was a fairly decent gamer himself. His interests weren’t as passionate as Kenma’s, but it finally gave Kenma someone to talk to about video games that could talk back.

“That’s okay. We haven’t spent much time together anyway. I’m fine with just the two of us!” Hinata smiles at him, holding the cup in his hands under his chin. The steam drifts from the small opening in the lid, warming the underside of his jaw.

“Still.”

“Don’t worry so much about it,” Hinata settles back against the brick. “You should know by now I’d follow you anywhere.”

“What?”

“I mean! Well. I mean, if it’s you asking me to do something, anything is fine.”

“I don’t really see it as you following me.” Kenma mutters, “if anything it’s the other way around.”

“I wanted to go to Nekoma because you were there. I mean, the others too, but you were my best friend. I wanted to be with you. Not like it’s in the past! I still think that!”

Kenma makes a face, ducking his head toward his knees.

“Sorry,” Hinata rests the cup in his blanket-covered lap. “That was probably embarrassing to hear.”

“No,” Kenma eventually replies. “It’s fine. If it’s you. . .I don’t mind hearing embarrassing stuff.”

Hinata laughs, nudging Kenma’s side with his own. “Good! Cause you’re stuck with me! You had one chance to run and you missed it!”

“Shouyou, that sounds ominous.”

“But I mean it in a nice way. Like. I’ll always be your friend. _We’ll_ always be friends.”

“Yeah.” Kenma sighs, almost wistful. “I think so too.”

 

 


End file.
